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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24262627">Mornings Can Be Awkward</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/desperat/pseuds/desperat'>desperat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>where's your desire? [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It, Hangover, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, minor threat, only mentioned - Freeform, there is a gun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:55:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,031</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24262627</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/desperat/pseuds/desperat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In front of him there was the elegant box. Pistol was on the ground next to it, bullets scattered around. Last night his hands was shaking even more than today.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>where's your desire? [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1751383</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>109</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mornings Can Be Awkward</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>It's a bit darker than I planned, but everything's gonna be okay. That's just sociopaths in love.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Martín woke up, he was horribly hang over and also not at all where he fell asleep. He vaguely remembered drowning last of their idiotically expensive whisky, which none of them even liked, and deciding that he can as well pass out on the kitchen floor. He didn’t suspect that Andrés would come back tonight, he would probably rather stay at Tatiana’s little flat in the town.</p><p>Apparently, he was wrong. Because someone had to drag him back to his room and dump him at his bed, and he was sure as fuck that it wasn’t monk’s doing.</p><p>Which meant Andrés came back.</p><p>Which meant he may still be here.</p><p>Which meant Martín can get a chance to properly say goodbye.</p><p>Few hours ago, he would be angry - he would be fuming, screaming and cursing him out. Now, though- now he was just so, so tired, feeling sick and vulnerable, like he always did after heavy drinking. He should just leave and not look back, just as Andrés did yesterday, but he didn’t have that strength.</p><p>No matter if that was pathetic, if <em>he</em> was pathetic, he just needs to see Andrés.</p><p>So he tightens up the robe he fell asleep in, and quietly shuffles to the chapel, hoping to find his friend there. He’s trembling from cold and alcohol withdrawal, barefoot and red-eyed, probably looking miserable.</p><p>He does, in fact, finds Andrés and immediately, he can breathe a little deeper, his hands shake less, worlds overall seems like a better place. And even if he knows very well it’s just for a moment, he doesn’t care. It’s enough to make him back in somewhat functioning person. Now that he knows what’s coming he can brace himself about all the pain he will inevitably feel when Andrés leaves again.</p><p>It will be easier, this time.</p><p>He doesn’t expect Andrés to speak first.</p><p>“Martín” he says, slowly, quietly. His voice is careful and rough, like he was also crying. “Martín, have you planned to kill yourself with pistol I gave you?”</p><p>That- was not what Martín expected.</p><p>But then, he saw it. In front of Andrés there was the elegant box. Pistol was on the ground next to it, bullets scattered around. Last night his hands was shaking even more than today.</p><p>“Don’t worry” he said. “I wouldn’t blow up my brain matter on your walls.”</p><p>Andrés still was turned around, Martín could only see the back of his head and impossibly tight should that only grow tighter when he spoke.</p><p>“Martín” Andrés repeated. “Have you?”</p><p>Finally, he faced him. There was that unhealthy glaze in his eyes that always appeared when he was on edge. There was hard set to his jaw, his hair disheveled, he was still wearing the same clothes in which he left last night. He didn’t look like he spent a lovely night with his charming wife.</p><p>Suddenly, Palermo felt sick.</p><p>Was he trying to kill himself?</p><p>Martín shut his eyes, leaned against the wall. He said nothing.</p><p>“We came back here just after midnight, me and Tatiana. You were already so wasted you couldn’t stand up straight, I barely get you to bed. And since then I sat here and looked and that gun and tried to remember why exactly I gave it to you.”</p><p>Andrés was speaking calmly, quietly. There was no trace of smile in his voice, usually so potent there.</p><p>Martín snorted. “I’m not trying to manipulate you Andrés. I will leave, I will, just- fucking give me some time, I have work of my life in here. I haven’t expected you so early.”</p><p>He haven’t look at Andrés, still not opening his eyes, feeling tired. That hadn’t stop him from sensing Andrés getting closer, but he forced his body to stay put, fighting the need to touch him.</p><p>“Last night-” Andrés said, his voice way softer this time. “Tatiana convinced me that I was making grave mistake by pushing you away, mi carino. She made me came back, and I am grateful for that because, Martín- I’m so sorry it took me seeing you like that to realize that I wasn’t saving you at all.”</p><p>Martín reluctantly opened his eyes. Andrés was so close, like he was last night, and it finally did it, finally pushed him through the edge.</p><p>“Saving?” he screamed, throwing his arms in the air, pushing forward, making Andrés backtrack. “What would you were <em>possibly</em> saving me from? Have you lost your mind completely? I’ve spent ten years by your side, loyal like a dog, outlasted your every of your little wives only for you to declare me your soulmate and throw away! That’s you saving me? Who needs enemies when you have friends like that, huh?”</p><p>He was playing with fire, that much was very much obvious from the angry set in Andrés’ jaw, and dangerous look in his eyes. Yet, he remained calm.</p><p>“Martín” he said, barely louder than a whisper. They were standing in the middle of the room again, so many things like yesterday, and yet everything was different. Andrés continued, “I’m sick.”</p><p>Everything fell quiet for a moment. Two men stood chest to chest, their faces mere inches away, their breaths intervening as they looked in each other’s eye. The dust whirled in the air, almost beautiful in the sun rays, when their disturbed it.</p><p>Because of that, it seemed even louder, when Martín slapped Andrés.</p><p>His head snapped to side.</p><p>“I know” Martín hissed.</p><p>Two scenes would overlap if there was somebody to immortalize them. Provoked, Andrés reacted like he already did once. His hand moved to Martín’s neck, this time, squeezing hand. He marched him to the wall, pushed into it.</p><p>“Don’t ever do that again” he said.</p><p>And kissed him.</p><p>He was the second time they were kissing in the last twelve hours, but it couldn’t feel more different. Everything that happened between them yesterday was just sad. Now, there was fire. Love and hate really intervening.</p><p>This time, Martín was the one to end the kiss. He’s hand was painful on back of Andrés’ neck, his eyes wild.</p><p>“Leave me again”, he said, “and I will kill you.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Come scream at me on <a href="https://twitter.com/desperatnine">Twitter</a> or <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/gaymitochondria">Tumblr</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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